


Play the Game

by Sevargs



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Bondage, Fight Sex, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Pesky Emotions getting in the way, Unorthodox mishandling of a bathroom counter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 19:18:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17586806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevargs/pseuds/Sevargs
Summary: When the loser of every fight is subjected to the complete mercy of the winner, every little battle is an all out war. And the spoils of war will be collected, whether or not family and friends are right outside the door.Too bad war has casualties too.[Kakavege Week 2019 Day 3]





	1. Hard and Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big shouts to dreamyghost, cosmicmewtwo and my wife (who threatened to divorce me for this one). Thank you for being the eyes to witness this first. 
> 
> For Kakavege Week, Day 3. Each chapter follows one of the given themes by the order of: 1. Gloves and Wristbands, 2. Bondage, 3. You Did What? 4. The Grass Is Always Greener and 5. Disneyland + a final chapter that acts as a closer.

He really did care for his wife. 

But he wasn’t proving it at that moment, with his body arched over, knees digging into the grass on each side of a body that was distinctly not hers. Fingers that were not hers dug into his ribs; the pressure of them strong enough to leave bruises that he could never explain in an innocent way. Nothing was innocent about it. Perhaps it started that way. The rivalry between them was a game that volleyed back and forth for so long that it was ingrained in their natural behavior. If he was doing something, he fully expected the other to be right there pushing to do it better. If he threw a punch, expected it back with twice the ferocity. 

There should have been no surprise when their raw violence toward each other escalated into that bizarre sexual attraction; stimulated by the nature of their obsession with strengthening themselves constantly. He wanted a challenge. He wanted to fight strong people. He chased people who could make him feel that rush—but he always ended up tangled with him, in the end. 

The both knew they’d taken the line and vaulted over it, but Goku couldn’t bring himself to put a stop to it. The high it gave him was incomparable to what he felt doing anything else. The sheer thrill they drew out of each session...He knew Vegeta felt the same, or he wouldn’t participate. Vegeta couldn’t be convinced to play if he had nothing to gain, or at least if he didn’t find some other reason to convince himself he wanted to go along with it. After all, Goku had started it, but he was no longer the sole instigator. Vegeta craved the crackling tension between them that built each time they clashed. 

Goku hissed, slamming a hand down into the earth below, leaving an imprint of his palm beneath. Vegeta was never willing to relent, even to the very end, even when he’d lost—and he’d lost that particular bout. It was his turn to take his punishment for failing to perform to his fullest. Goku took his punishment the last time and Vegeta hardly let him walk away without a severe wobble in his step. Goku had a new found fire in him to make him need to crawl away.

The first part of the fight was just getting Vegeta to the ground and Goku had really pushed himself to his limits to disable Vegeta—leaving fragments of his armor all around them from cracking his fist through it. Vegeta’s protesting fingers in his sides did nothing but force him to brace himself with one hand, perched into the ground, so that he could use the leverage to dig the fingers of his other hand into the cracked material and rip the remaining pieces of armor off his body by force. The louder snarls from him went ignored, muffled out by Goku taking his jaw between his fingers and thumb. 

When he heard the first attempt at words, he shoved his fingers into his mouth and choked the sounds out. Vegeta’s body recoiled, bristled by his audacity, and Goku always found himself grinning down at him with a mischievous delight in those moments when he put Vegeta in his place. He paid for those moments eventually, but he abused having the advantage while it was at his fingertips—filling Vegeta’s mouth and forcing him to shut up for a little while. 

In a swift motion, Goku reeled back and rolled Vegeta; knowing he had little room to really retaliate when Goku’s fingers sunk down into his tongue and hooked his jaw, jacking his head back a little bit. Vegeta lost the crushing grip on his sides and, instead, dug his fingers into the dirt, when Goku jerked him face down. Without a hint of remorse, Goku settled over him and snaked an arm around him to take a fistful of the blue material over his chest. Unlike his armor, it didn’t offer resistance. When he pulled with force, the material shredded in his hands under his strength—much to Vegeta’s scathing dismay. Goku didn't care. If he didn’t want to lose his clothes directly off his body this way, then he shouldn’t have lost. 

That was exactly how their fights had become. The previous time had left with Vegeta using Goku’s own belt against him and any attempt to retaliate led to having that belt pulled tighter around his neck until he had to make excuses to his wife about where the red marks came from. Vegeta didn’t care. If he didn’t want to have to make up stories to his wife, then he shouldn’t have lost. 

It went both ways. 

This time, Vegeta would be the one who would have to figure out his excuses. Because Goku’s regard for his clothes lay in pieces in his fingers—shredded threads pulling as he pushed him face down into their war grounds. He wouldn’t completely shred all of his clothes, maybe. Perhaps he’d leave him enough to get home and not be completely naked. Vegeta couldn’t just teleport back as easily as Goku could, after all. But that was the fun part on Goku’s behalf—watching Vegeta sneaking in from afar, trying not to be seen after what they’d done, looking unreasonably disheveled. 

He pulled back the whole strip, from his chest, all the way to the edge of his glove, meeting resistance where Vegeta’s fists dug the earth. The fabric tore off sooner than Vegeta’s glove slipped, leaving nothing but the edge of white against skin—splotched with some dirt and blood, of course. Goku never bothered to take the gloves off. He left them be, in spite of taking his time in stripping whatever else off Vegeta. Doing so gave him power he didn’t usually think about in any concrete way.

Goku had the power to touch and feel with his fingers, but he denied it to Vegeta when he left him in just his gloves. He knew it made Vegeta so angry, and frustrated. But for a different reason than the frustration he felt when Vegeta did the same thing to him; leaving him bare, down to nothing but his wristbands. Because when Vegeta did it, it was a visual reminder that Vegeta was in control—and when he was in control, he liked to boast his control to the maximum capacity. Goku always fought him to his fullest, but Vegeta’s determination, and willingness to play dirty, landed Goku in precarious situations sometimes. 

But... this was not one of those times, not when he took him down to the ground and winded him—pinned him beneath him and took his victory spoils, in spite of Vegeta’s noisy grunting and hissing. Oh, Vegeta protested—pretended to, anyway—making lines in the dirt with his gloved fingers. And he threatened him, with every obscenity and intent for bodily harm he could conjure up in the moment. But his knees also shifted further apart, and Goku definitely didn’t force him to arch his back and all but invite him to ravage him; an invitation he took, intended or not. Because he couldn’t just let Vegeta walk away without a quiver in his body. If he wasn’t struggling to figure out his legs, then he hadn’t made up for the last battle. He couldn’t just let that go. 

For that matter, he had no reason to let Vegeta off easy in any capacity. Letting him leave only partially scathed was a gift and Goku had an even better gift to give. Vegeta would love it. So very much, he decided. So he backed off, only briefly, throwing him over and slamming him back down on his back. What little clothing he had left in tact on his body, shoved down his hips in his haste to have his fill of him, he took hold of and pulled. Vegeta’s body lifted off the ground for Goku’s strength and he shoved his other hand down on his chest to create the counter-tension that split the fabric like it was made of wet sand—melting in his fingers. 

Vegeta’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, but they did nothing to stop him—disadvantaged by the amount of energy Goku still had in him after beating Vegeta down into his position. The alarm in his eyes meant that Vegeta registered his intent and he cursed him, snarling vehemently. His death threats and promises for physical harm did nothing other than stimulate Goku a little more, turning a wider grin that took over his face—a smirk even. Dominating and unrelenting through the whole process of leaving Vegeta with no shred of his own clothing left. None of what he showed up in was salvageable. 

With a flick, he tossed aside the scraps to join the destroyed fragments of armor and took Vegeta’s face in his hand—fingers digging into his jaw and forcing him to submit, leaning down over him again. The risk of being bitten was worth the reward of overtaking his mouth and coming out the victor, even if part of the success came from Vegeta’s pure shock. Goku couldn’t recall ever attempting to kiss him before, and he knew Vegeta wouldn’t dare. But the heat of the moment and the fury of Vegeta’s words, brought him the desire to choke the syllables out of his mouth; and in his surprise, Vegeta hardly knew how to combat the tongue in his mouth. 

Gloved fingers pressed into Goku’s chest, gripping the fabric of his gi that remained perfectly intact. In contrast to Vegeta, Goku hadn’t lost a single article of clothing yet—only let the front come open, disheveled and hanging loose just enough to grind Vegeta into the ground. The disgruntled huffing against his mouth when he put all of his weight down on him, told him just how incensed he made Vegeta. A contradiction in action, however, with a pair of legs gripping his hips so tightly. 

The motion of his body forced him to break his mouth away, immediately blasted with Vegeta’s louder snarls again; but he could brace himself over him better and countered his hissing by crushing him beneath him. Pressed flush against him, Vegeta couldn’t play off the shuddering in his body with Goku’s aggressive handling—try as he might. The rigid, trembling, arching of his back, only emphasized how little resistance he really had when he was trapped, penetrated by a man who was still fully clothed.

Vegeta would kill him when he recovered; but Goku had no plans to let it be that day. If he wore him down enough, Vegeta wouldn’t be able to retaliate right away. He’d just be left angrier, and exhausted—and have time to plot something much worse, but Goku only cared for the immediate and quickly found working Vegeta stiffly between them escalated his breathing and the variety of colorful words. Once again he choked out those words by shoving his tongue down into his mouth, met with a sloppy and eager—if angry—return. Then Vegeta bit him.

A smirk slipped through, however, and Goku backed away, turning his face and scooping his arms under him to remind him that he still had more energy left in him than Vegeta did. The steep inhale he received when he increased his energy flow and slipped into super saiyan, almost made him lose it; but he didn’t let it go until he felt the strength leave Vegeta’s legs. When he came down, he leaned over him for a bit, panting. 

After he finally let go of Vegeta, he quietly loosened the fabrics of his gi a little more and untangled himself from him. He barely had the chance to bask in his victory before he knew he needed to make his breakaway or risk Vegeta finding his wind from somewhere. Getting physically away from Vegeta before he did manage to come back from where Goku put him, was a critical decision when he knew his next move was likely going to start a war. 

Goku knew what he was doing was going to earn him hell in the future, but it hardly stopped him from adjusting his pants and retying his belt, yet removing the top part. Going home shirtless was nothing unusual for him, but Vegeta going home naked was probably not very common...even less so if Vegeta got caught going home wrapped in Goku’s orange gi. Before Vegeta had the coherency to reach out and catch him, Goku leaned over him and draped the orange cloth over him, crouching down to kneel over him.

“Ya better not get caught goin’ in the house. Or yer really gonna have ta explain this one, ‘Geta,” he smiled widely. He waited just long enough to see the moment of alarmed recognition take place and then he waved with two fingers, then pressed them to his forehead and teleported away to leave Vegeta in the middle of nowhere, a mess, and in nothing but gloves and the top half of his training gi.


	2. Slow and Methodical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Bondage

Goku anticipated that Vegeta would exact revenge for the stunt he pulled and for a time, he made reasons to keep his distance, just for the sake of letting him cool down—even a little bit. No one had better skill in holding grudges than Vegeta, but Goku tried to delay the inevitable, anyway. Finding things to do to get him out of Vegeta’s range hadn’t been all that difficult, with Chi Chi offering him a plentiful list of chores if he lingered long enough and looked bored enough. Alternatively, he found himself hiding away at King Kai’s briefly, here and there. 

He really preferred training with Vegeta, but he knew he had put himself in a danger zone with him. Combatting Vegeta face to face didn’t keep him from coming at him. No, that he could handle. One on one, he knew he had an even chance to overtake Vegeta—as much as Vegeta had to put him down likewise. No, the hesitance came entirely from knowing that Vegeta had no qualms about using underhanded tactics. Sometimes, Goku could counteract them and even return them in stride. 

But then there were the times that Vegeta had far too much sadistic prowess, and Goku was left entirely at a loss. The danger zone was not knowing where Vegeta would take it from there, for how he loved to magnify the return. He could easily wait it out, unlike Goku—who preferred immediate results. 

That was how Goku found himself cornered. 

Waiting Vegeta out would never be long enough, if that many weeks still led to being unknowingly stalked and shoved into a bathroom, just out of range of the participants of the party Bulma had going on. Chi Chi insisted they go. Surely Vegeta couldn’t start anything at a public gathering. That was the only reason he didn’t reconsider and teleport off to King Kai’s. Clearly, he was wrong. Vegeta knew that his best opportunity came when Goku was least able to put up a significant fight without putting them on display. Vegeta was the tactical mastermind between them. He waited until Goku was at his mercy. 

When family and friends were only a stone’s throw away from them, on the other side of the door. 

“Vege—” 

“Hello, Kakarot. Nice of you to drop by,” Vegeta’s voice was low, quiet enough to be contained within the guest facility. When Goku heard the door lock click behind him, he knew it was about to be tagged out of service for a while. 

“How...how’s it goin’...?” He stammered a bit, when he found Vegeta chest to chest with him. 

“It’s going quite fine. Have a seat,” he drove his knuckles into his sternum and pushed him back, nearly slipping him off his feet and dropping him down on the low counter. His back touched the cool glass of the mirror behind him and he glanced to the side of him to realize he was quite literally caught in a corner—with his elbow tucked against the wall. If he tried to fight too hard, he might put his arm through the wall, but Vegeta didn’t seem to want to give him even that much wiggle room. “See Kakarot, I’m feeling a little adventurous today. And I don’t think I need your participation.” 

“What do you—” He tried to question, but before he could voice another word, Vegeta stuffed something in his mouth just big enough that he couldn’t talk around it. Some kind of cloth tied in a knot that shocked him so suddenly, that Vegeta was able to fasten it so he couldn’t spit it out. Reaching up and removing it seemed like the easy solution, but Vegeta denied him the opportunity. His stunned moment gave Vegeta enough time to snake his arms around his shoulders, pulling something back toward him—a cord.

With his face close to his, Vegeta flattened his palm to his chest and pressed, drawing the cord back and tight enough to force his elbows nearly into his own ribs. The immediate fight response was to flex against it and just snap the cord, but he realized the depth of Vegeta’s trap in the calm demeanor Vegeta had while the smaller man sneered down his nose at him. 

“Break out of it, Kakarot. Go ahead. My wife doesn’t use me as a test subject for no reason. It’s tougher shit than you’re giving it credit for.” 

Half of the collection of people on the outside of the door would sense any flickering of ki coming from him if he pushed to break free from Vegeta’s bindings. Goku was in Vegeta’s territory this time and he was in uncharted territory on top of that. Vegeta had never actually gone as far as to unfairly incapacitate him, but then...Goku had never been so devious to send him home at the risk of being caught in the act so blatantly, before either. 

Vegeta’s momentary pause ended there, returning to his task of leaving Goku with no way to hold him off. The length of cord continued to his wrists and looped his hands together tightly after a bit of a weak struggle—fighting only until the noise of the items on the counter threatened to give away the activity in the bathroom. Goku breathed heavily through his nose to express his dismay at Vegeta, but it only earned him a satisfied smirk from Vegeta. 

“What’s wrong, Kakarot?” He asked, pulling the cord in a hard snap at the end and then leaving it to come closer, putting a hand on the glass behind him—getting right in his face. “You seem to be uneasy. What could be the problem? Being caught by me, or being on the other side of the door from your friends?” He whispered to him, moving his mouth closer to his ear, making him shiver. “Where you know you could be caught by them. Imagine having to explain to your wife, what you’re doing in here, with me. Tied up and gagged.” 

Of course, this would mean that Vegeta would be found out too, but Goku somehow knew that Vegeta would willfully go down with a sinking ship to see Goku on his knees—in any number of ways. To shove him just out of sight of a public place and immobilize him that way, meant Vegeta had very little concern for some consequences. Or, he knew Goku just well enough that he knew he could get away with it. In part, he wasn’t wrong and that was why Vegeta was the smart one. Aversion to being caught was only part of it, and Vegeta knew that and played on Goku’s predictable nature. 

“Now, I have to figure out just what I want to do with you, Kakarot. Because obviously, this isn’t good enough. After the humiliation and mental gymnastics you made me go through to concoct a bullshit excuse to Bulma on the fly of why I came home in your clothes, I think you deserve my wrath. Because, while she didn’t see me come in, she did find your orange atrocity while I was in the shower washing you out of me, you nasty animal.” He spoke, low and intentional and Goku groaned a little around the fabric in his mouth, tongue uncomfortable and teeth wanting to bite around it. 

The mental image that was presented did nothing but attack him in the wrong places and Vegeta did it on purpose, because Goku was reactionary. If he hadn’t had his mouth gagged, he would have told Vegeta that he shouldn’t have gotten himself caught if he didn’t want to have to make excuses; but that was probably why Vegeta gagged him in the first place. Vegeta had plenty of time to think of how he wanted to return Goku’s previous gift and he had made certain that he did it in a flawless execution. If Goku wanted out, he could get out, yes; but he would most certainly have his own explanations to make. And he couldn’t do that on the fly like Vegeta could. 

“Just try not to make too much noise, Kakarot,” Vegeta murmured, hands coming off the mirror. One of his thumbs hooked the cord between his tied wrists and lifted his arms up to his chest, while his fingers pressed into his neck loosely. Effortlessly, he pressed himself between Goku’s knees and took him by the belt in his other hand. Vegeta had no mercy in jerking him forward, until he was just barely teetering on the edge of the counter. The position left his head set forward, neck against the mirror, where he couldn’t keep himself straight anymore. Vegeta was mean and nothing would change that, but it sent a stimulated trickle through him just the same. 

His belt pulled off under Vegeta’s fingers without any effort and only then did Vegeta let his hands go again. 

The eye contact he made with Vegeta left him with the moment of clarity for why, when he found that same belt being pulled around his head, wrapped flat around his eyes to block out his ability to see anything. Vegeta even folded the flat cloth sash to prevent light from peeking through and he let Goku stew in darkness. 

Though he couldn’t speak, he could make some noise, and a distress whined bubbled up from deep down. Ignored hotly by Vegeta. 

“What did I just say, Kakarot? No one needs to near me fucking you in the bathroom.” 

He felt the fingers on his neck; Vegeta’s actual fingers, not gloved ones. He took at least one off in the enjoyment of his power trip. From there, Goku could only feel what Vegeta was doing and his heart raced—beating in his chest loud enough that he thought Vegeta might hiss at him about keeping quiet again. Not very far away, on the other side of the door, his family was unaware of what he was doing. His wife was talking to Vegeta’s wife, while Vegeta was dropping Goku’s pants into a shameful pile on the floor. Their sons were playing in the yard within yelling distance of where Vegeta was gripping his hip to hold him in place while he used the fingers of his other hand to prepare Goku for his payback. 

And Vegeta liked to take his time, unlike Goku. 

That was the real punishment of it all, when Vegeta let him squirm. He struggled with how Vegeta left him positioned, just barely on the counter, only just able to lift his legs and find an edge for his heels to hook on. His muscles strained, unable to hold himself in anyway with his arms. As he was, he had no leverage. He wouldn’t beg for anything, but he didn’t even have the option and that was the power trip Vegeta liked. Goku came through and messed him up in a hurry, but Vegeta’s method was to savor it. Both methods were extremely effective against their target, at the very least. 

By the time Goku could process any change in what was happening, Vegeta was back in his face. He only knew this, because he could suddenly breathe openly through his mouth again, with the gag pulled out. With a deep inhale, he tried to catch his breath, but quickly found a mouth covering his own—effectively gagging him once more. Vegeta knew what he was doing, because the breath Vegeta sucked out of him in that moment silenced the other sound that it probably would have been instead when he bent his legs and shoved him mercilessly back into the glass. 

His neck protested, but he craned it back, forgetting the discomfort after a few moments. The struggle to keep his panting quiet was real and Vegeta must have recognized it, because he heard the water turn on from beside him. The sound was enough to lessen some of his breathing, but he still had to kill the instinct to release any other telling noise that threatened to spill out of his throat from Vegeta’s brand of punishment. His legs wrapped around Vegeta’s waist and he was somewhat shocked at the act of kindness shown in Vegeta actually gripping his thighs to steady him in place. Of course, that kindness was really only done for the sake of Vegeta gaining a more favorable condition. 

The moment Goku’s burning muscles could relax from the discomfort of his previous position, Vegeta took him to task and destroyed him. 

He had this coming to him, but nothing really prepared him for Vegeta’s war tactics and this time, Vegeta ascended to advanced levels that made him feel the sensation of his head spinning until the world got bright again. Vegeta hooked his fingers over the belt around his eyes and dropped it to hang loosely around his neck, making eye contact with him again when he was satisfied with his handiwork. Two gloved fingers this time tilted his head back to keep his hazy attention locked to him, giving him very little time to process anything else. 

“Now Kakarot, make sure to clean my handprint off the mirror, or that’s going to look questionable for you coming out of the bathroom leaving strange smears on the glass. And I’ll be sure to let everyone know I just passed you and you said you’d be right back. So, don’t take too long. Try to put yourself together, hm?” Vegeta looked him over, pulling the chord from its knot and letting it fall loose enough for Goku to break free with a wobbly push of his arms.

Vegeta unabashedly stepped back, and then moved over to use that very mirror to make himself presentable again—going through all the motions of stripping his other glove to wash his hands, finally turning the water off and replacing them. As if he was entirely unbothered by the bigger mess he left on the counter. Goku watched Vegeta, in a dazed fog for a moment. Only realizing when Vegeta unlocked the door and turned to shoot him one last victorious smirk, that he was actually leaving. 

It snapped him right out of his daze and he turned his brain back on enough to function his body to relock the door as soon as it closed again. If someone found him like that—

He was then presented with another terrible problem when he could hear Vegeta’s voice through the thin door...He had to go back out there...and act like he hadn’t just been subjected to Vegeta jumping him in the bathroom. He had to sit with his family at dinner before he could manage to get a bath or shower in. 

“He said he’d be out in a second.” 

Vegeta gave him no window of time to work with either. Damn it Vegeta. 

He hastily worked on getting his clothes back on, thankful at least, that his wristbands were hiding the red marks from the cord Bulma apparently wrangled demons with. What the hell Bulma. 

He grumbled, washing his face to try and perk himself back up and cleanse the fog out of his head. “This isn’t over, Vegeta.”


	3. More Than Punches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: You Did What?

Dodging Vegeta came as a natural reaction from years of batting back and forth with him. The way Vegeta curved the hook of his punch and threw his back into his motion never changed, even if the delivery did. One punch he dodged, did not always mean he dodged second one; but each one, in practice, became more and more readable until Vegeta recognized that Goku had him open like a book. When that happened, then Vegeta stepped out of sync and put Goku back on alert—forcing him to hasten his reaction time. 

This dance kept them going for all this time and never let Goku get bored. 

In return, Goku swung and caught nothing but air. Vegeta would not be caught easily when he knew what the stakes were for losing. Their little game had forced them both to learn how to avoid being captured by the other. In a way, the intensity of their game of tag, had pushed them to get better, if only just to maintain the even ground of their own private war. Balancing on each other continuously appeared to have no downsides....

But, their war had become complicated. What started as physical tension, was starting to spin wildly. At least, it was for Goku. Vegeta seemed able to ignore it or maybe he didn’t feel it the same way; though, he kissed back just the same. Was he reading it the wrong way? Did he even understand what he was feeling? Some guilt should have occurred when he kissed his wife after coming home from kissing Vegeta within the same waking day. He cared for her. He really did. 

He just...also cared for Vegeta. 

The combative, monstrous way they beat each other into the ground and threatened each other with worsening social situations, only seemed to feel natural. With how close to the edge they threw themselves, it was a wonder if they wanted to be caught or not. Goku could barely lie his way out of why he looked like he needed a shower and a nap, when Vegeta cornered him. And Goku’s retaliation afterwards, left Vegeta struggling to keep a straight face at the dinner table, with Goku’s hand where it certainly did not belong.

Their subsequent sparring sessions had become score cards and it did not stop, just because there were people around. Goku was bold enough to plant a kiss on his mouth in a flash, just seconds before slugging him. No one saw this, but they could have. The risk was worth the reward of Vegeta’s fury. The sheer velocity of return, left a tingling down his spine. Thrilling. Every risky exchange was thrilling. Dangerous and filled with consequences that neither of them knew, but apparently not threatening enough to stop them. 

Vegeta never hesitated in anything he did, once he was sure of himself. Maybe that was the reason why Vegeta didn’t appear to consider any of it twice. Vegeta bit him occasionally, when he went in for an uninvited kiss, but after the first, he never made any indication he was significantly bothered by it. Of all people, he was unbothered? Did he just accept it as normal battling terms between them? Vegeta didn’t do physical affection. Goku didn’t either. 

What made that okay? 

The two of them took their battle, once again, out to a place where no one could see them. Away from their friends and family, like some kind of dirty secret. Not like they hadn’t always done this, even before it became a battle of dodging being discovered, since their sparring could cause collateral damage. 

Out in the open, the battle flirting didn’t have to be discreet. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Even Goku was aware enough to place an adequate identifier on it. It sounded like something Yamcha would call it—though, maybe not in reference to Goku. They probably hadn’t gotten caught, because no one could fathom them engaging in the behavior they were almost doing right in front of them. No one would believe it between them. On the outside, looking in, he wouldn’t either. 

“Kakarot,” Vegeta’s voice cut through his thoughts suddenly and he halted his reflex to go on the defensive against him, when he noted the crossed-arm stance. Vegeta had dropped the training mode for some reason, so Goku followed suit. 

“What’s up…?” He questioned, frowning at the...accusation in his tone? 

“Explain what the problem is, you’re training like you’re halfway here.”

“What do you—”

“I could have knocked you into orbit a second ago and you wouldn’t have seen it. Fortunately for you, I have no real desire to pick on the defenseless.” 

Goku tilted his head and turned a a half-lidded, silent stare at him—daring him to hold on to that statement as true. Vegeta had absolutely no problem picking on the defenseless; he’d put Goku in such a compromising situation on purpose that way. To even suggest it earned him enough wordless language from Goku, that he had to rephrase himself for clarity. 

“I have no desire to punch you in the fucking face when you’re not aware you’re even in the direct path of my fist, you fool. Explain what the issue is, so we can get back to it. I won’t waste my time here.” 

There it was, with Vegeta cutting right to the point. He appeared cold about it, in a way that left an impression that maybe it meant less to him than it did to Goku. Vegeta’s war with Goku was a ritual, a continual battle and training exercise that turned into something more explicit. He never acted like that was the case. He never questioned what they were doing or attempted to stop any steps over the line. Maybe that was the differences of culture that Vegeta knew. Goku thought to ask, but never really did. He could, but receiving the answer could change things and he didn’t want that either. 

“I don’t have any issues,” he answered, plastering a forced grin on his face and raising a hand to emphasize his earnest nature. 

“You have plenty of issues, Kakarot, don’t bullshit me. You’re basically a big walking clusterfuck, but I’m not touching on the rest of what’s wrong with you, I’m touching on what’s the matter right now. You’re dodging one minute, then it’s like you’re gone, poof,” he made a gesture with his hand, displayed in a manner that indicated that Goku appeared bouncing in and out of his situational awareness. That pissed Vegeta off, to be ignored in any capacity, even Goku knew that. But that was not his intent at all—

“Vegeta, I’m not—.” 

“I don’t care what you’re not, I’m talking about what you fucking are. Now explain it, or next time, I’m cracking you open and letting you feel it. I have no interest if you’re not playing along. Not after I’ve already put more stake in you than you apparently have returned, Kakarot,” he snapped at him, nearly stomping his foot.

Goku rubbed the back of his neck, staring hard at Vegeta. His words felt severe and the tone of them left a twisting sensation in his gut that made him ask, “...What do you mean?” Maybe he didn’t actually want the answer, but he was going to have it anyway. 

“I told Bulma.” He paused, taking in what must have been a magnificent kaleidoscope of emotions to cross Goku’s face; and then he continued, to clarify and smooth out any confusion that may have been present. “I told her what I’ve been doing. With you. What we’ve been doing.” 

“You did what—?” 

“You heard me. It was better to come clean about it before it started to add up and she made her own assumptions. At least this way, I was in control of it. I came far too close to being caught outright and I think we’ve gotten ourselves in a bit deep here, Kakarot. Or perhaps only I have. Regardless, Bulma is aware.” 

“...Is...Bulma...mad…” Goku stammered, unsure of how to respond. He hadn’t considered a scenario where getting caught would be second to one of them confessing on his own. Between the two of them, it did make sense for it to be Vegeta, he supposed. Goku couldn’t tell Chi Chi something like that. Not with how she could be… Not when Goku knew what he was doing wasn’t really right to begin with. Not that he could fault her for any response she could have. She trusted him. He was dodging around that for his momentary interests and he didn’t mean it badly… He really didn’t. He cared for her… 

“She’s not the concern right now. I’m talking about you. And the fact that you’re not entirely in whatever this is. The last few sparring sessions with you have been this...You losing your attention halfway through, like you’ve got other places to be. And if that is the case, then fucking go. Because I’ll find better things to do with my time. If you’re having sudden remorse for your actions, first of all, that would be a fucking first; and second of all, it’s a little too fucking late for it. Whatever the case is, figure it out, because I’m not going to end up being something you mess around with and then forget about when you’re bored with. I will fucking end us both before I live through that humiliation. So tell me now, Kakarot.”

Every word left a stronger pull in Goku’s chest than the previous one and he watched his mouth move like he was seeing it from someone else’s eyes and hearing it from outside of his own body. Or like he was hearing someone else talking through Vegeta. That Vegeta was saying these things left him wordless for a little too long. 

“Nevermind, Kakarot, I can see I’ve made a mistake.” 

He snapped to attention quickly, “—no wait. I...I just. Have been distracted...by this...is all...It’s not like we’ve ever actually...talked ‘bout it. We’ve just...messed around...dodgin’ our friends...family...and knowin’ they’d probably look at us funny about it, but...doin’ it anyway…” 

“It’s a physical relief. One that shouldn’t be withheld. You’re a saiyan, your wife ought to be thankful she’s not on the receiving end of the irritating level of energy you do have.” 

“...That ain’t the problem, Vegeta.I wouldn’t be distracted enough to miss a hit from you if that’s all it was.” 

“Yes, I know, and that’s why I’m playing this fucking word game with you until I back you into saying it.” 

Goku balked at him, catching the direction Vegeta was leading him. “...I could get away with sayin’ it if it was just a stupid stress relief. But I can’t get away with it if I care about you,” he turned his eyes away from him, knowing he may be closing down his bond with Vegeta over this. Vegeta was far from the kind to build relationships the way Goku did. Even less to the degree Goku was starting to think he may be feeling. 

“So...This has to stop then.”


	4. Just Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: The Grass Is Always Greener

No punch he’d ever directly received felt as heavy as Vegeta’s words and Goku’s expression must have reflected that, because Vegeta snarled at him—fists balling up at his sides. Vegeta’s Calm demeanor started to slip, replaced with something more prickly. Goku nearly took a step back in defense of himself, but he didn’t. If he showed that moment of weakness, then Vegeta would tear him to shreds. All he offered was another long moment of silence, desperate to figure out his next move. Vegeta was the one who was good at these battles, not him. He could fight the physical wars. Not the mental ones. 

Vegeta took the frontline with words, cracking metaphorical knuckles and showing teeth with his clear show of disdain. His implication almost threw Goku back by force. 

“That’s what you’re getting at, right? We have to stop this. You started to give a shit. And somehow that’s a terrible thing.”

W...what.

“V...Vegeta…”

“It’s okay when it’s bullshit fucking around. Perfectly fine when I go home in your clothes. When I’m tying you up in my goddamn bathroom for my amusement. Because there was nothing to that, right.” Vegeta’s scowl deepened and Goku took in every detail of his face, realizing just how steeply he’d offended him. How long had it been since he’d seen Vegeta this incensed? A while. 

How badly had Vegeta misunderstood what he’d said…. Completely. 

“Hold...Hold on, that’s not what...That’s not what I meant, I—” Goku stammered, hands reaching out—fingers twitching slightly. Vegeta was leaving him unusually unsettled and suddenly very acutely aware of how thin his relationship with him was without the physical aspect. He never said enough or implied enough to give Vegeta a reason to believe he felt anything more than temporary interest in their misbehaving. Not much different than what Goku perceived from Vegeta really. 

He’d always thought he was the more transparent one between them. But clearly, he was wrong. 

“No? You can kiss me on the mouth and tell me it’s still just playing around then? I never took you for that kind of person, Kakarot. We’ve been doing this for fucking years and only now has it gotten to this? You know that’s personal. You aren’t that fucking thick. Unless I’ve misread this that badly. Then by all fucking means, just obliterate me in my embarrassment so I can go recover somewhere and pretend I’m not a fucking fool.” 

Goku shook his head, distressed and unsure of how to calm Vegeta out of his tirade. He had upset him and hadn’t meant to, but Goku didn’t know what he was doing anymore than Vegeta did. They were possibly one emotionally functional person between them, even he knew that. Vegeta was angry and frustrated and he was confused and clueless, most of the time. But he knew at least one thing. He wasn’t making a joke out of Vegeta. 

“No. You weren’t wrong, the problem is that I care, but not because I care….that it has to stop...but I don’t...know what to do with it. I wish I could tell Chi Chi like you told Bulma...I don’t really have that much room with her. She doesn’t like most of the things I do…Bulma lets you have so much freedom to...kinda do whatever you want…”

“Oh give me a damn break, Kakarot. Your wife puts up with your nonsense. Bulma accepted my confession because she probably already knew something was going on. Not to mention, the only reason I ended up with her to begin with, was a direct result of your absence. Not to say I have no feelings in regard to it, but it’s not the same at all. Your marriage has a foundation of more than just a few lonely nights and moments of depressed weakness. Your situation is simple and pure. You chose to complicate it with me and I let you, because I’m stupid. Do you know what Bulma said when I told her? Do you want to know exactly what I told her?”

Goku wasn’t sure, really, he if he wanted to know the exact details, but he felt he needed to and he nodded silently. 

“Told her flatly, with no sugar coating, I was fucking around with you. There was no sense in lying to her when it was getting to the point where she was going to see it with her own two damn eyes. She deserves that much doesn’t she? I think so. She’s had two of my children, and put up with more than enough of my shit. I think maybe coming out so frankly that I was fucking one of her best friends was probably a little unsightly, but her response? The kind of woman Bulma is? Kakarot? Do you know what kind of woman Bulma is?”

Vegeta waited for him to respond and Goku shook his head, swallowing, because he really didn’t know what to say in response. He was at a loss for words, hearing so many come out of Vegeta all at once in succession. Vegeta didn’t speak so much all at one time, it was paralyzing to hear him. 

“She told me that if I was going to fuck around with someone that wasn’t her, that she was glad that it was you, at least. Because you’ve always been the fucking problem in my life and now that I’ve finally gotten your attention, she’s not willing to stop me. She’s that kind of person. I don’t fucking deserve her. Fuck, you’re a goddamn downgrade, but here I am. You don’t pick who you fucking love, if you did, do you honestly think I would have opted for a big fucking buffoon who can’t get his shit together? Who I know is going to leave me with a void like he once did to begin with? Only this time, it’s going to be worse. At least last time, it was death that caused that. This time it’s going to be my own stupidity and you not being willing to man up and figure out what you want.” 

The words trickled deep down and made their way right to a button that Goku didn’t know he had, mashing it hard and leaving him prickled—defensive. “It must be nice to have a wife who understands, Vegeta. Bulma’s chilled out a whole lot, you don’t even know how she used ta be. I guess I mighta told Chi Chi too if I had your situation, but she don’t even like it when I run off to train with you half the time. She wants me to be a good husband, and I ain’t bein’ that. Not when I go home after you and I—” he opened his mouth to keep speaking, but nothing came out. 

Silence caught him when he finally, fully processed what Vegeta actually said, in the back of his mind. Wrapping his head around it really took almost a full mouth of words before he really could grasp it and when he did, it dropped everything else he had to say and left him sputtering. Once Vegeta decided how to felt about something, he committed to that completely, but to actually come right out and say it—

“You—”

“Eloquent as ever, Kakarot...But really...Perhaps stopping this is the correct solution. You have a good, wholesome family. Your marriage started stable, was intended to be that way. She never moved on despite you being dead for that number of years. And accepted you right back in. You should not give that up. I have my doubts Bulma would have waited that long if I’d died and left her behind. And if you’re not going to tell her, then you need to goddamn stop.” 

“How can I tell her, Vegeta? I already told you. She doesn’t even approve of what I already do, most of the time.” 

“Give her some fucking credit, Kakarot. She’s that way with you, because someone has to put you in check. But if you’re not going to man the fuck up and make a decision, then it’s got to end here. I’m not going to be there to take the brunt of it when it gets blown out and then suffer the repercussions that much more when it burns down. I can lick my wounds on my own terms and learn to deal with it.” 

“...Give me time…” 

“Why, so you can keep going back and forth in the interim? I’m not going to wait with baited breath for you. You don’t act without pressure. So, that has to be it, Kakarot. And that’s fine.” 

Nothing was fine about it at all. The tension in his voice was painfully clear—enough that Goku could hear it without needing it translated out to him. The stern expression didn’t mask the glassiness of his eyes and Vegeta’s thinly pursed lips threatened his composure. Unlike Goku in some ways, Vegeta had always been an extremely openly emotional person. Usually, that emotion presented itself as anger and irritation, but he was clearly full of other things. 

“...I’m sorry, Vegeta…” 

“You’re not sorry. You’re an idiot. And I knew that.” He wiped his face and closed his eyes. “Go home please. You can teleport. I shouldn’t have to be the one to be watched walking away.”

Goku didn’t want to leave him just like that, knowing that doing so was shutting down everything they had. The moment of consideration before that teleport, had more pressure on him than the conviction he had knowing he was about to die transporting Cell. He had less fear facing death, than losing what he had with Vegeta. But Vegeta wasn’t the only thing at stake and Goku hadn’t figured out what he wanted yet. But the deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach only got more intense, when he stepped forward to turn his face to kiss Vegeta briefly.

Vegeta refused to open his eyes and Goku only caught the briefest glint of light off his cheek in the moment before he pressed the two fingers to his forehead and teleported away.


	5. Rollercoaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: Disneyland (I hate fun and amusment parks, so I stretched it.)

The coiling in the pit of his stomach lingered even after he left Vegeta, but it took some time for the anxious twisting to truly soak all the way through. He didn’t go directly home that night; he took some time to return, hoping it would settle down enough for him to try and function in his family like he was supposed to. But the knot didn’t lessen, even a few days later, when he finally did give in and drag himself in to hear Chi Chi asking about where he was. She was worried about him, so he did try; but his answers came from far away. 

He didn’t tell her any more than what he needed to tell her and then he went out to do chores. The wide eyes she gave him should have been a sign that he was not putting on a very convincing face, but he couldn’t bring himself to force it. Those several days alone had not stopped the constant clunky, thoughts rolling in his head. 

No amount of digging in the dirt would alleviate the pressure, but he didn’t have to face the consequences of his lack of action, if he spent his time cutting soil in the blazing sun. He wasn’t good at this anymore. Not that he ever was in the first place, but he especially wasn’t with Vegeta. And not even with Chi Chi either. Being away for as many years as he had been, had left him with a large, awkward gap—a distance he tried to fit back in seamlessly, but didn’t quite manage. She butted heads with him even before he died, but he meant well enough that she forgave him for his wild ways—unless he directly involved Gohan. 

Now he felt like he was misplaced puzzle piece. Except with Vegeta. 

Vegeta never made him feel that way. Because Vegeta had the decency to express how angry he was at Goku for leaving them—whether he admitted it, in those exact words, or not. Vegeta wouldn’t have ever have done half of what he did, if his feelings toward him weren’t backed by more heat than he let on. More so than his own family. Chi Chi was less angry with him for staying dead than Vegeta. Vegeta sizzled deeply for years, and it showed. Thoughts like those, sent him right back through loops that made his stomach twist tighter. 

He let days stack. Weeks. A month. Two. 

By then, he really thought it would have dulled a little bit. But the whole field had been dug up by hand. Replanted. Twice, after he didn’t like the placement the first time. He placed in irrigation lines, and ran pipes from the creek. He had time to sort and prep for the next section, weed out the already growing crops. From a distance, Goku looked like a competent farmer. With no distractions, he had nothing else to do but finish these relatively simple tasks. 

In a shocking twist, that nearly winded even him to consider, he just...did not feel like training. 

Vegeta had become his sparring partner and he hadn’t seen him since the day he left. Completely running away from him was probably not at all what Vegeta meant, but he hadn’t yet figured out how he was supposed to behave seeing him again. How was he supposed to act in the aftermath of that exchange, with everything on the table—left hanging to die. Because he left it hanging there. 

The longer he waited, the more he thought about his blunder and how he shouldn’t have left him there. Or how he should have acted sooner. Or how he could have said something and not let months of silence continue to drag. But each time it crossed his mind, time had slipped even further and took him that much more away from his chances of salvaging it. Vegeta was right. He had a perfect, pure life. A wife who waited for him, even in death. 

But...no differently than Vegeta did, really. Vegeta was just willing to murder lots of people to make Goku pay attention to him. 

He sat back, wiping his hands off on his pants and stared into the dirt. He barely saw it for the memories that took over most of the time. Most of them were abducted by Vegeta, when he knew they should be his family. But Vegeta was the one causing the rollercoaster of emotions. 

Goku knew what roller coasters felt like. He had a vivid recollection of the one trip he took with his sons and granddaughter to Disneyland when she turned two. Not because it was Pan’s first amusement park trip. Not because he’d never been there, to that one in particular himself. But because he and Goten had been warned, intensely, by Gohan, to not eat everything in sight and then try to ride the rollercoasters. But, they could fly, how could that possibly bother them? 

Gohan was right, absolutely correct, and Goku never remembered feeling so horrible in his life. Whether it was the food, how much he ate or the rides themselves, it didn’t make a damn bit of difference, but it left him with his stomach turning itself inside out. 

An uncomfortably similar feeling he had right at that moment.

Vegeta was like any number of roller coasters that came straight from hell with no refunds. There was no safety harness or warning for him and if Goku had no idea what the ride was, it threw him for more loops than he could prepare for. If he started to get a vague idea, then it threw extra loops in, just to keep it fresh. 

And the queasy churning that he stepped off the rollercoaster at the park with, was the same discomfort he had when thinking about the day he teleported away from Vegeta. Vegeta told him to go, but he shouldn’t have. But he needed to, but he knew it was a mistake. But he had to. Up and down. Back and forth. Yes and no. He circled around himself, trying to convince himself he made the right choice, but he only landed himself right back to the same sour note he started off with. 

The gut feeling was telling him he was wrong, but he already missed his chance. Vegeta told him he wouldn’t wait on him. 

Picking himself back up might take a little more time than he’d expected, but he’d managed just the same...eventually. He’d never go to another damn amusement park again. Vegeta ruined those by association. The near constant reminder of his stomach flipping itself inside out at even the faint thought of him...did nothing in Goku’s favor. Especially when it came as a foreign concept to him, to begin with.

Because, for someone who did things so on the fly, he sure was hesitating on the one thing that made the biggest impact to his life. He never had any problem running off and getting himself and everyone around him into life altering—world altering—trouble. Why was Vegeta the largest, most intimidating hurdle he’d faced in his life currently...when Vegeta couldn’t even look him square in the eye without standing on a chair? 

That was probably because Vegeta made him feel more things than some strong guy he might go exchange fists with. He could fight the strongest guy in the multiverse...but they didn’t have him kicked in the gut like the ride that was Vegeta. He wanted off now. The ride was supposed to be over right. He got off months before...left the park. Let his pass expire. He was done. The sock to the stomach should be gone. 

Except, Vegeta wasn’t actually a ride at Disneyland and their messy playing around...hadn’t really been playing after a point. Discovering it after the fact came as the worst realization of all, and Goku almost startled himself when he finally came back to reality to see he’d torn up three rows of plants in his apparent frustration of himself—unfamiliar with this emotion almost entirely in this context. Being frustrated for reaching his limits was one thing.

...being frustrated for being actually acutely aware of his own stupidity, and his inability to make it work in his favor, was another.

He left his mess abruptly, brushing dirt off his knees and clapping his hands together. The tools he had stayed right there where he last cut them into the ground and he made his way back toward the house. If he stayed any longer, he was just going to have to replant the whole field again. Trying to focus would be too much of a trial and he would be wasting time sitting in the field, otherwise. At least if he went back in and got himself washed up, he could sit in with Goten for a bit before dinner. His son was always good company.

That was, until he heard him yelling—with a familiar voice yelling back at him. Trunks? The knot tightened in his stomach again and he stepped on in the house. He knew where Vegeta was, so he didn’t have any reason to feel the way he did, being suddenly anxious...but he became acutely aware of Bulma—a presence he didn’t really look for and so missed in approach entirely. 

She came to see Chi Chi sometimes, so he couldn’t really be all that surprised. Her appearance wasn’t exactly abnormal...Goku just hadn’t seen her in a while. How was she going to greet him after he walked in and came around the corner? He was already too far into the house to back away without it appearing obvious he was running away. 

So he put his best face on and peeked in. 

“Oh hey, Goku. You are alive, after all,” she noticed him immediately and apparently received him like any other time before. 

“Yeah. Just...been busy. Y’know. Crop stuff,” he stretched a grin, feeling how thin it probably looked. 

“Oh yeah? Chi Chi said you were working hard. Good for you….” She turned in her seat and looked him over. Her gaze felt like the heaviest weight; one he couldn’t lift, and instead he turned himself away—looking around for Chi Chi Instead. He found quickly that his wife was missing, however, and it was just he and Bulma in the room. The slow ascending before the long drop around the corner, began to leave him queasy. Where was Chi Chi and why was Bulma alone…?

“...Yep...uh, so where…?” He searched for words, and Bulma caught right on to him.

“She said she needed something out from the garden and it would take her a few minutes. She wanted me to stay and watch the pot for her. So sit down with me, Goku.” She patted the seat beside her. Immediately, his instincts prompted him to run. Nothing about her smile and her body language suggested he was in safe territory. 

Running away from Bulma would look much worse than awkwardly sitting next to her and fidgeting with something on the table, so he came over and plopped down beside her—refusing to look in her direction, despite feeling her eyes on him. He could easily play oblivious, he usually was, after all. They often told him so. For him to be oblivious wouldn’t come as a shock to anyone. But he must have looked uncomfortable, because she didn’t take her eyes off him at any point. Waiting him out. And Bulma had more patience than Goku did. 

“I feel like every time I come here, you’re avoiding me, Goku. Why is that?” 

There it was.

“...I’m not...not really. I’m just...not really here either. I replanted the field...a lot. Soil’s been weird this year…” Or rather he’d been weird and took to using the field as a stress relief when trying to work out his constant up and down thoughts about Vegeta. When making decisions was hard or he didn’t want to think, he’d go tear apart plants and beat up the ground with his bare hands for a while. 

“Not slacking off at all, huh…? Odd for you…” Her words trailed and Goku thought she probably knew exactly why. Maybe Vegeta told her...maybe she guessed. But she knew. 

He finally cracked and glanced at her briefly, “...how is…?”

“You better make sure you really mean to ask it before you do, Goku. Because it’s not fair to, if you’re not gonna do anything with it after.”

The words weren’t meant to be sharp, but they felt razor edged and he winced a little. Asking about Vegeta wasn’t right, maybe, but he...missed him. If he was doing better, then maybe the flipping sensations would go away. Maybe he could settle and eventually approach him...get his friend back at least...unless he’d ruined that too. Which, he would have to accept that, if that was the case… He chest tightened a little bit at the thought. He hated every bit of this unfamiliar territory. 

“...’m sorry, Bulma. I didn’t mean to mess anything up…”

“Then what the hell are you doing?” She folded her arms and leaned closer to him. He found himself stunned by her sudden words, nearly barked at him in their blatant way. She asked him what he was doing and he...had no clue. He never had a clue, he was winging everything. They all knew this.

“I… don’t…”

“You look as pitiful as he does. I finally got him marginally functional. But only after weeks of him acting like someone important to him died. And then he finally broke and asked me to make him stop feeling things. Watching a grown man come apart is a lot harder than you think, you know. And this isn’t the first damn time I watched him do this because of you,” she unfolded her arms and pushed a finger into his cheek. 

He barely noticed her assault for the confusion, or rather alarm. Vegeta had made some comment about it, but Vegeta was dramatic. All of them were acutely aware of that. The incident at the World Martial Arts Tournament was proof enough that Vegeta was nothing short of explosively dramatic. But… Bulma was telling him this, not Vegeta. She could be objective when she wanted, and her implications suggested that it really did have more of an effect than Goku appreciated.

“The first time,” she continued, jabbing her finger into his cheek, “he wouldn’t come to me for anything, yet. You and your stupid idea to stay dead made him miserable. And he almost recovered from that, until he saw you. This time, he came to me and said he couldn’t do that again if he had to see you all the time. I put him on an antidepressant and let him gently start to calm down. But then you never did show back up. And now he’s anxious all the time. Acts like he isn’t, because that’s Vegeta, but he is. I can’t do anything about that, but try and help him out of that too. He’s not happy with you gone. And clearly, you’re not happy being gone.” 

Every word she said struck him harder than the previous one and he found himself leaning on his arm, slouched against the table. Bulma was being honest with him and he needed to hear it, but it cemented in the truth of his poorly made decision...and that he didn’t do anything to fix it. Vegeta was supposed to be better…

“I didn’t mean for this to happen...We were just...Messin’ around and...It went a little too far…” 

“Goku, I don’t think it was ever really just messing around for Vegeta. He doesn’t do that very well. And I don’t think you’re telling everything either. I know you’d never lie to me. But not telling the whole thing...that’s a very you move...isn’t it? Whatever it is you’re feeling, you need to work it out, too. Because eventually it’s going to damage everything between you. You should at least talk to him again and see him. If you don’t do whatever it is you were doing, at least don’t ignore him entirely.” 

“Yeah...you’re right…” He mumbled, quietly. “I just...don’t know how…” 

“Walk up to him and hit him for all I care, just do something. I’m sure he’d appreciate it. Hell, being hit by you gets him going, obviously. Just don’t let this continue forever. I want him back too, and he’s not going to come back until something changes…” 

He opened his mouth to speak again, but the sound of the door opening made bite his tongue before any words came out. Chi Chi came back in the room and the conversation died at that moment. The timing was poor and Bulma played it so smoothly, that Chi Chi didn’t even blink between them to wonder what they were talking about. Goku watched her in awe, while she kept his wife from even considering that any exchange had taken place with her outside. Bulma had said what he needed to say, apparently, and she easily turned her attention back away from him—leaving him back to his thoughts and putting him right back, full throttle, on the ride he had been trying to get off. 

If Vegeta was the rollercoaster, then Bulma had just been the stupid spinning tea cups and he hated those just as much at that moment. Dizzying and enough to make him want to put his head down and take a nap. If Gohan ever asked him to go with them again, he might actually teleport away in self defense. He’d rather take punches to the head repeatedly. 

When the girls went back to talking, of things he didn’t care any bit about, he stood up and made a clear escape back outside. He had to go dig in the dirt a little more, after all, and figure out how he was going to put his words together. 

How could he put it all together, to cause the least amount of upset from the people he cared about? He was going to be tearing up the field all night, digging for the answer—somewhere out there in the middle of his farmland.


	6. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No theme, the wrap up.

“Kakarot—goddamnit—“

“Shh, if you don’t want to be caught, then be quieter, ‘Geta.”

“Ngh—you’re doing this on purpose, you fucking creature,” Vegeta puffed lowly, teeth threatening the edges of his ear.

Fingers were curled in his shirt so tight, that Goku expected to hear the fabric tear at any moment, but he didn’t let him go just yet. Even if he wanted to move away, the legs around his waist contradicted the hissing from the one who owned them. Chest to chest, Goku crushed Vegeta against the wall of the small closet he’d shoved them into. He’d wasted no time in hiking him up on his hips and giving him a reason to have to choke down his grunts and stifle his noisy breathing.

He mushed his face right into Vegeta’s, ignoring the hiked pitching of his breath—silent hiss that he couldn’t express the way he wanted. Sometimes, Goku just couldn’t leave Vegeta alone, and catching him off guard was hardly difficult when he had him in a place that he didn’t think Goku would be that daring. Goku was that daring. To snatch him up and throw him into a closet was hardly a chore, even in the midst of a family event. Something about Trunks graduating with a master’s degree in a thing. What thing, he couldn’t remember. He’d tune back in when the actual party was underway. 

Until then, it wasn’t like they were going to ask him to help with anything, so he made right after Vegeta. He wasn’t being asked to help either; Bulma had crews of people for the celebration she was setting up, anyway. Perfect, Goku had other plans and Vegeta hadn’t even been aware of him until after he’d come up behind him and grabbed him. The natural reaction to fight dissolved as soon as Goku took his face in his hands and stifled his yelling with his mouth. 

Did get his tongue bitten, but those were the risks of the game. 

The small closet didn’t have enough room to really play around in, but he crushed him up against the wall and wrapped his arms around his body warmly. Fingers dug into his back—half in protest and half from the undeniable excitement of being preyed upon. Vegeta took some enjoyment from it. Deny as he might. If he didn’t, then their game wouldn’t have lasted for so many years. 

“I’m jus’ gettin’ you back for your last stunt.” 

“Sounds more like you’re being needy,” he snarled, grazing his teeth against his cheek, but not enough to leave a visible mark. To leave any mark would be to give it away and they were not willing to let themselves be exposed so easily. Under the noses of their comrades, they bounced this game back and forth for so long that the whole thing became a challenge to see how far they could push it before someone would notice. 

Their wives were aware of what they did, turning the other cheek for the sake of letting them work out their masculine aggressions on each other and to sate their battle stirred physical attractions—or so Bulma had worded it. She had known, all along. She had been the one who pulled his head out of the dirt and smacked him out of his fearful stupor—of whether or not he’d ruined everything he had with Vegeta. She forced him against the wall in a way, and pressured him to make the choice on whether or not he wanted to go without him, for the sake of keeping quiet with his wife. To give up Vegeta meant he didn’t have to confront Chi Chi.

He couldn’t live with that—or without Vegeta—he’d learned while doing his deep thinking in the two days of ripping up every plant on his farm. The months of distance had been terrible and he actually wanted to take back the time he wasted in coming to the decision to just go to Chi Chi and tell her what his feelings were. He still loved her, she was still important. She still meant the world to him. 

But there was also Vegeta. 

He really should have known that Chi Chi already knew. If Bulma already figured them out, then why wouldn’t she have gotten the same idea? Maybe Bulma even told her. Maybe she was just smarter than he gave her credit for—or he was just really awful at being discreet, in general. Maybe his behavior for several months had been telling enough. 

The wave of relief he was hit with, could have knocked him right over. She wasn’t mad at him. Not at all. If anything, she had been waiting for him to get over it and come out with it. And when he did, he felt alive again. The terrible knots in his stomach loosened and he immediately went to Vegeta to try and worm his way back into his favor. 

After the way he left him, he didn’t deserve for him to forgive him quickly. And boy, he did not. Vegeta made him earn every bit of his attention back. But Goku didn’t like to lose and eventually, Vegeta always did cave—whether he liked it or not. Having his training partner back, had been a welcome blessing, but having his companion back was completion. Once he had as close to his forgiveness as he was going to get, their game came right back on at the intensity they’d always played it at. Only then, it became a game of how long until they outed themselves. 

So far, Gohan was the only unfortunate victim that Goku knew of. That was entirely his fault for being too smart for his own good. He wasn’t going to spill anything to anyone. So they kept right on at it. Were playing right at it still, in the cramped closet—despite Vegeta’s intense attempt at protest. Maybe Vegeta was right; he was being needy. He didn’t want to risk letting Vegeta out of his grasp for too long; not to give him any chance to think he was any less serious, than he was the day he came back and bowed at his feet and admitted he made a stupid mistake. 

Vegeta was stuck with him until one or both of them kicked the bucket forever. And then three days on top of that, just to make sure the death was permanent. 

“You clown—,” he hissed, mouth turning to catch his in a messy display. Without light in the closet, neither of them could actually see each other, but he didn’t need to see Vegeta to know his expressions. The tone of his words left him with the mental picture of furrowed brows and a curl to his lip in a sharp snarl. He could feel that little bit of snarl, actually, in the teeth against his lip and tongue when he steadfastly ignored Vegeta’s grousing. All it did was make him deepen his attention and sloppily mush his face into Vegeta’s. Oh, he hated that. 

It was Goku’s new war tactic. 

Overwhelming affection. 

Vegeta’s heels dug into his thighs, boots threatening to leave bruises. If Goku wore white, it might be a problem to have Vegeta leaving his footprints all over him like that. But he suspected that Vegeta would do it anyway and then just tell everyone he was out kicking his ass. Never mind the angle those heels laid out in. Vegeta would dare anyone to argue with him, and without uttering a word about it. Goku did wonder which of his friends would notice. 

Goku’s hand ran under the length of his thigh, crawling right up his hip to brace him against the wall better. 

“I missed you, s’all,” he hammered the next soft words of war into his ear and relished in the irritated quiver that snaked through every one of Vegeta’s limbs. Vegeta had his methods of punishment and Goku was finally adapting his own specially tailored counterstrikes. 

“You fucking—” Vegeta’s palm pressed into the side of his face and shoved him with great effort to put distance between their faces. He didn’t have much luck. Goku had far too much advantage and Vegeta was just too flustered, being attacked at such a short notice. “Come into my home and act like this—it hasn’t even been a few days since the last—, you pathetic—” 

“When this silly party is over, I’m gonna zip us out of here, an’ take you somewhere and treat you like a lady. Jus’ lay ya down and love on ya.” he smirked right up against his mouth, knowing just how explosively he was going to react. He wanted Vegeta to know he had a smile on his face too, at his expense. 

The brief sizzle of Vegeta’s ki was sharp, blooming like a firework and there was no way that it would be missed by anyone who could feel it. Someone would ask, but no one would be asking at that exact moment. Well, no one who was tuned into sensing Vegeta’s extreme irate, distress signal. No. The knock on the closet door—that made them both pause still as if they were dead—came with the voice of Vegeta’s fifteen year old daughter immediately after. 

“Daddy,” she spoke, softly to the door, not opening it even a bit. “When you’re done making out with Uncle Kakarot, can you send him out to Aunt Chi Chi. She said she needs to see him for a minute. And really guys, get a room. Mom’s gonna lose it if she finds out you’re being this noisy about it.” 

Goku squawked at all of her words and puffed his cheek against Vegeta’s. “You told your daughter—” 

“Your son knows, it’s only fair. Besides, I didn’t tell her, she accused me of being in the closet and what do you know, Kakarot, I’m in a fucking closet.” Vegeta hissed at him, butting his knuckles into the side of his face. 

“Hi, Uncle Kakarot,” Bulla’s voice came muffled from the frame of the door. 

“...Heya, Bulla. You bein’ good?” He greeted back, still holding her father in his arms, up against a wall, in a closet. Not the weirdest thing he’d ever experienced in his life, but it was definitely up there. 

“Yeah, at least one of us is,” she shot back. “I’m going now, hurry up, you dorks.” She knocked the door again, as if to emphasize her point and he could hear her leave. Goku could hear the Bulma in her, but there was a lot of Vegeta in her too. The combination was kinda terrifying actually. 

Even though she told him to come out to go see Chi Chi, he borrowed just another moment to tilt his face back and kiss Vegeta again. Vegeta always likened him to a big puppy, and maybe he was; but better being that, than the idiot who tore apart an entire field of crops because he couldn’t make a simple decision. 

“Asshole, let’s go, before someone actually comes looking,” Vegeta grunted at him, after a minute, fighting off his face smushing. He’d deny enjoying any bit of the closeness until they buried him in the ground, but he did. 

And Vegeta didn’t know it yet, but he was gonna mess him up, later. Just like he threatened. And make him like it too. Their war was an evolving game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to expand this one a lot more, but ran short of time. I finished the epilogue literally four hours ago. But I am marginally satisfied with it. It was supposed to be choppier, like weird hits of crack but it wasn’t long enough to give that full impression. One day I will write something to fully give the feeling I’m looking for. Thanks for reading, hope it wasn’t too terrible!


End file.
